The Good Shepard
by MisoSoop
Summary: The story of one man infatuated with cooking, his quest to better the world, and the dark force that was on a mission to stop him. What's a hood to do when your twin is out to make you squeaky clean?
1. Chapter 1

_Oh Lord. I'm mean, I know, but this was a challange. Inspired by a typo and a journal entry, something was spawned. Something very... cliche. His code name: Gary-Stu. Sort of._

_A parody of sorts, but making fun of all the bad fics out there. Sorry if you're offended by this or something... but it made me laugh, so there. D:_

_I have chapter two done, but we'll see how this goes, yeah? I'm always open for suggestions on what else Gary-Stu should do. This is his introduction. _

_Yes, the title was ripped, unintentionally, from the movie, The Good Shepherd. I wanted British Invasion, but the title can be changed, so we'll see. (State your opinions now! The Good Shepard or British Invasion!)_

_Credit goes out to Marauder, who inspired this, ArtemisRex, who supported the idea, and Marsonfire and Queen Jane Approximately for loving it and supporting it. And throwing out ideas. The Summary was thrown out by Marauder and Queen Jane. Hope you don't mind I used it. xD**

* * *

**_

**_The Good Shepard_**

_One_

Tim was just about ready to join in on the yelling match that Angela and Curly were having, since he was finding it rather hard to watch TV with those two going at it. It got worse as each second passed, because of course, it just isn't an argument until you start throwing things. Sighing, Tim moved so he was lounging on the couch, a book sailing over his head and landing on the floor a moment later.

"I'll beat your ass if you throw anything over here again," he hollered as a shoe narrowly missed the TV.

"Oh, fuck you Tim," Angela shouted, and Curly whole heartedly agreed. So the shouting match evolved into a two against one for a minute, until it turned into an all out war. And then some poor soul knocked on the door. Angela stormed over, since Tim currently had Curly pinned on the ground, and wrenched the door open.

"What do yo-"

Angela stopped and stared at the equally startled person. An older boy that looked a lot like Tim was standing on the front porch. "Tim," Angela called nervously, making sure not to take her eyes off of the person. "Tim! Someone done dressed themselves up to look like you and it's creepin' me out."

Tim whacked Curly over the head for good measure before he stood up and walked to the door, muttering about how his kid sister was on drugs. Well, Tim, if Angela's on drugs, so are you.

Tim couldn't even bring himself to ask who the stranger was. It's a little unsettling to be looking at yourself standing on the other side of the door. Angela had reverted back to her younger sister mode and was hiding behind her older brother. Just in case the stranger turned out to be some psychopathic salesman who murdered and/or raped his costumers and happened to look a lot like Tim. But we all know that's just absurd.

The stranger suddenly grinned and let out a strange sort of excited squeal before bringing Tim into a rather crushing hug. "I finally found you! I've been searching since I was seven years old!" he announced with an obviously English accent, letting go of Tim who looked a bit dazed. "They all said I'd never find you, but eleven years later and, well, here I am!"

"...Who are you?"

The man looked rather appalled. "What do you mean? No one ever told you about me?"

"Obviously not, or I wouldn't be asking who the fuck you are."

He gasped. "You shouldn't swear Timothy, it's unbecoming!"

Curly wandered over. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Oh goodness, I have a lot of work to do, don't I? Lord, even the younger ones cuss like sailors," he muttered, eyeing Curly with a mix of revulsion and pity. Tim imagined he'd be crossing himself any second. Or worse yet, he had a cross with him and would take it out and hold it in front of him before he stepped foot into their house. Not that Tim would let him into the house in the first place.

"You gonna tell me who ya are?" Tim asked again.

"I'm Theodore, but you can call me Teddy," He said, smiling a smile that damn near blinded all three siblings. "I'm your twin! Isn't that wonderful?" he screeched, hugging Tim again.

"Uh... Ted," Tim said, pushing his 'twin' away. "I ain't never heard of-"

"Ain't is not a word, Timothy," Ted interrupted. Tim glared at him.

"Fine, I've never heard of you," he snarled. "As far as I'm concerned, you don't exist, now get the hell off my doorstep," Tim snapped, closing the door. Ted's foot, however was in the way. He stuck his arm through the gap in the door, waving some papers around. Curly snatched them away, glanced at them, looked baffled, and handed them to Tim who was still holding the door in its almost closed position. Angela was standing on her toes, looking over Tim's shoulder as best she could.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Fuckin' birth certificate," Tim muttered, ignoring Ted's protests.

"Well?" Angela asked, obviously getting anxious. Curly still didn't seem to comprehend what was going on, so he took to cussing Ted out. It sounded like Ted was about to pass out he was sucking in so much air.

Tim made a face and shoved the papers back through the crack in the door. "He's our brother."

Angela looked horrified. "I have to deal with more of you? That's it! I'm moving out!" she announced, stomping to her room.

"Can she do that?" Curly asked, forgetting about Ted for a moment as Tim opened the door. He was ignoring Curly.

"All right Ted... you can come in, but if I tell you to leave, you better get out as if the devil himself were on your heels," Tim warned, standing to the side as his twin walked in. He immediately began tutting and made futile attempts to clean things. Curly looked just as horrified as Angela had.

"But that guy's a fag. I don't want a fag touchin' my stuff!" He protested, loud enough for only Tim to really hear. Tim smacked the boy upside the head.

"Shut up, he's our brother. An' I'm in charge here an' I say he can touch your stuff all he wants, but you keep your comments to yourself, you hear me?"

Curly made a face at him and stormed outside.

"Oh this won't work at all," Ted muttered, walking back into the living room from the kitchen. "I'm not getting the happy home vibe that I should be getting... but not to worry! I can change all that in a jiffy!" he said happily, practically skipping out the door. Tim was surprised there wasn't a trail of rainbows and glitter behind him. Ted came back in with a large carpet bag and a smug look on his face.

"Why don't you bond with Angel while I fix things up around here."

"Ted-"

"Buh-bup!" Ted said, wagging a finger in Tim's face. "Go."

Tim glared at him but walked down the hallway where the bedrooms were anyway. Angela's door was open and she was already grabbing clothes and shoving them into a little suitcase their mother had given her to play with when she was younger.

"Put the suitcase away Angel, you ain't goin' no where," Tim drawled as he leaned against the door frame. She glared at him, but kept right on packing.

"The hell I ain't. If he's stayin', I'm gone."

"He ain't gonna be like Curly-"

"Or you?"

"Or me. He's so... faggy, he farts rainbows," Tim muttered. Angela snorted.

"He _farts rainbows_? What the _hell_ was that, Tim?"

"I dunno, just start unpackin' your stuff."

* * *

_My sense of humor shining through with that one. I couldn't resist. :D_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank j00 for da reviews lovelies. Chaptah 2 reveals Ted's (rather ridiculous) life story. It's long, but entertaining. _

_And NittanyLizard caught the Mary Poppins relation in the last chapter. She's the only one that mentioned it, anyway. Artemis caught most of the unintentional mistakes in the last chapter. Thank yoouu. _

_There's an **intentional** mistakes here. Anyone that has bummed around my LJ might know it already, and if you don't, shut your face. D: _

_PM me the mistakes when you catch them. They can be anything, but it's probably not a typo. _

_This is the chapter where I announce that I'm open for suggestions. What should Ted do? I don't usually read bad fics, so my Mary-sue/Gary-stu knowledge is a bit limited, so this is as far as I got on my own. I don't think the life story's quite tragic enough, but what ever. _

_Sorry ahead of time if anyone is offended. It's all in good fun. _

* * *

**_The Good Shepard_**

_Two_

Angela grudgingly remained at home though her suitcase was sitting snugly in her closet packed and ready to go just in case. Tim was sitting on the couch next to her as they watched Ted clean the house. She was still baffled by the fact that Ted owned a carpet bag, but she thought it was best not to mention it. She had already asked why he dressed like a nerd and Ted had lectured her on the wonders of being polite and the immortal theory that "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" was the way to go.

So she sat, and watched, and filed her nails, and watched some more. Finally, Ted stopped and shoved every cleaning product back into his carpet bag.

"How'd you get that all in there?" She asked. She earned another blinding smile from Ted as he pat her head gently.

"Curiosity is a lovely thing Angela. You see, I grew up in England, and while in England I was invited to this school-"

"All right, all right, cut the long story off completely," Tim said irritably. "How come I never knew about you?"

Ted sighed in a rather unhappy manner before wedging himself in between the two siblings. "It's a long, sad story my dear twin..."

"It's okay you-"

"Don't have to? I'm sensing that you don't want me to re-live the painful memories with my Twin ESP, but it's okay Timothy, I want to share this."

"That's not-"

"Buh-bup!" Ted shushed him again, an index finger held up and his eyes closed. "I need to do this Timothy. I only wish Curly were here to hear this too. Now, we'll begin. Get comfortable, this may take a while."

Angela and Tim glanced at the clock; 12:30 P.M. They both had places to be, but Ted had barred them inside the house. Literally. In the matter of seconds he had put bars on the windows and successfully locked the door so well that it wouldn't budge even if a train crashed into it. Ted had skills. Many, many skills.

"It all started on November fifth..."

Angela was slumped over on the couch, a her eyes glazed over and a vacant look on her face. Ted had been going at the life story for about two hours now.

Apparently, their mother did not want Ted, so she named him, wrote his name across his forehead in permanent marker, and dropped him in a basket of dirty sheets, cackling like a mad woman as she tip-toed back to her room. She knew Tim would be the superior baby and help her global conquest. Of course, it was still in the planning process.

So, Theodore Melvin Shepard was adopted by a happy couple who moved back to Mexico when he was one. So, for awhile, Ted was a magical Mexican prodigy, able to speak perfect Spanish after only living there for a week. Quite a feat for a one year old.

Not long after, he learned how to play piano and guitar and became a Mariachi singer, roaming the country of Mexico at the age of three. Some say he was a better singer than the Phantom of the Opera and any Angel that God had up there.

His parents then thought they should share their child with the people of Spain; the Spanish people were so jealous that they demanded they move to England instead. And so it was. Ted was now an English boy who spoke, obviously, English and Spanish. He spoke fluent French and Polish when he was six. What a smart child he was!

Then, when he was seven his parents told him that he had a twin out there somewhere, but they thought that their mother might have sacrificed him to some sort of God so she could become immortal. But Little Theodore "Pedro" Melvin Shepard would not let that be the end of it. He studied the ways of the detective and began his search for his twin brother who, at the time, was just beginning to become the hoodlum we know and love.

And so, the search continued. He searched Mexico for two years on his own, where he made a connection with the animals and learned to live off the land. But his twin was not in Mexico, so he returned to England to let his parents know that he could not find him. At the age of nine, he announced he wished to become a world famous chef in hopes of his twin finding him after seeing him on TV. By the time Ted was 11, he was well on his way.

But then something magical happened. He recieved a letter from a nice little owl who ate his cat that he was accepted to a very magical school. Literally. It was a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ted was thrilled and went to the school where he became the greatest damn wizard in history. He pawned Merlin like there was no tomorrow. He graduated early he was so good and heard that his twin might be somewhere in Asia. And so he went; the search was on. Again. While in Asia, he learned martial arts and swordsmanship and became a Samurai after two months. Even though Samurai were not around any more, they started up the fad again just for Ted.

Ted then found out from a very powerful enemy he had beaten with just a paperclip and a shoelace that his twin's name was Timothy and that he was living in the United States. Ted was fifteen.

So, he went to the United States after attending his parents' funeral. They had been killed by an angry circus clown right in front of the poor boy. Ted, of course, killed the clown using a bag of rice and a piece of cardboard. Now his search was even more important as Tim was his only remaining family since his parents were only children. He searched for Tim for three more years. He recently saw that Tim the 'Notorious Delinquint' was released from jail while reading a newspaper and immediately hurried over.

"And here I am, sitting with my twin and my little sister," Ted said happily. Angela didn't respond. Tim wasn't even sure she was breathing. He kicked her leg and she jerked, going into a sort of spasm before falling off the couch and laying on the floor and foaming at the mouth. "Oh heavens!" Ted cried. He clapped his hands and Angela was instantly cured. She blinked, stood up and muttered something about putting on a longer skirt.

Tim stared after her, while Ted dusted his hands and stood up. "Well, now that Angela is okay and you know my story, I'm going to make dinner--"

Tim glanced up at the clock. It was now four o'clock and he was startled to find that Ted's story had taken nearly three and a half hours. He groaned and covered his face with his hands as Ted dug around in his carpet bag.

"Since I'm sure you're all hungry," he said pulling out a white apron. He put it on, tieing it tightly as Tim looked up. He stared at it in horror. Emblazoned on the front was a picture of what looked like a chili pepper, a green one, with a mustache and a big smile. Underneath it were the big red, flaming words "I'm A Hot Jalapeno". Tim slowly stood up, trying his best to keep his movements under control, and walked out the door. He needed to punch someone's teeth out and he didn't want it to be Ted. He'd rather take everything out on a Soc.

* * *

_You should know what to do. Oh, and the apron was inspired by another LJ conversation. They know who they are. D:_


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry if this isn't even remotely funny. _

_No one guessed the mistake (I messed up too, there was only one, not two), so maybe you'll figure it out with this chapter. It was a continuity error, if that's a hint. :D_

_Brandi is my sister, who I inserted in the spirit of all bad fics. I couldn't bring myself to do a self insertion, sorry. But Brandi's more Mary-sue like, I think. Which will show up more later. _

_Again, sorry if this lacks in humor. I'm sick. Shut up. :(_

_I don't own "1999" by Prince (Because every bad fic needs music that doesn't exist yet), or "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da" my most favoritest Beatles song ever next to I Am The Walrus. **

* * *

**_

**The Good Shepard**

_Three_

"What the hell is going on?" Tim muttered as he walked back to his house, his knuckles lacking in any raw skin or blood, much to his disappointment. There had been no challenges given, or accepted. In fact, it seemed like the Socs and Greasers had suddenly forgotten there was a rivalry between them. He couldn't even get some chump from the Tigers to fight with him. So, frustrated and confused, he made his journey home.

He was surprised however, when he found he couldn't open the front door. He swore. And jerked the door knob. And kicked the door. But nothing happened. "Those fuckin' bastards locked me out!"

Grumbling swears and threats, Tim peeked in through the still barred window. He jumped back when Angela suddenly threw herself at the window, and yanked it open. "How'd you get out?" She screeched.

"The hell are you talking about? I just walked out the door! Why'd you lock me out?" Tim demanded. Angela's mouth dropped open, before she disappeared. He could hear her trying to open the door, and heard her swearing. She reappeared in the window, her face a bit red.

"It's still locked. Don't you remember? Ted locked us in the house! And apparently locked people out too! How. Did. You. Do it?" She snarled. Tim frowned and opened his mouth to explain, once again, he had simply opened the door and walked out, when he heard Ted.

"Angela? Who are you talking to like that? Didn't anyone ever teach you how to hold a proper conversation?"

"Take me with you!" Angela pleaded, reaching through the bars of the window as Tim backed away. "Tim! Tim!"

But Tim was already taking off down the street. As he was running in a rather dramatic way, he noticed that no one else seemed to be walking anywhere. They would simply take a few steps as he got closer, stop and move out of the way and yell as he went past, and then they just... stood there. It was like what really happens on the set of a movie. And how Tim knew that, he had no idea.

"Hey Tim."

Tim realized that, for some reason, he was running in place, and the reason seemed to be a hand on his shoulder. He stopped, baffled, and looked down at the face of Curly. How Curly had managed to stop him, he had no idea, and he didn't want to find out either.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Tim snapped. He waited for his younger brother to at least flinch, even a little, but he didn't. He just stood there, stoney faced.

"You aren't allowed to run down the sidewalk to get away from confusion," Curly said, pointing to a sign. On said yellow sign was the picture of a person that looked a lot like Tim, running, with a big 'X' through it.

"When the fuck did you start caring?" Tim asked, crossing his arms and staring his younger brother down. Curly didn't even blink, but pointed to another sign. Again, there was a person that looked a lot like Tim with an 'X' over its mouth.

"Can't swear either."

"..."

Tim shoved Curly into a bush and stalked off down the street, swearing over his shoulder at him. He'd go to Buck's, that place wouldn't change... or tell him he couldn't swear. After a bit of walking, he was relieved to hear the familar sounds of a party starting at Buck's, and was even more relieved to see people still smoking, yelling and swearing as he got closer.

"Hey, man, where'd your dork clothes go?"

Tim turned, his fist raised, before he recognized Kenneth, a boy that had been running with his gang for about a year. Kenneth had instinctively raised an arm over his face.

"What the hell is your problem man?"

"It wasn't me that you saw," Tim ground out, lowering his fist. Kenneth slowly lowered his arm, a confused look on his face.

"Sure it was, 'less you got a twin now," Kenneth said. He noticed the look on Tim's face and his eyes widened a bit. "You don't, do you?"

"I do now."

"What the hell! Where in the fuckin' world has he been all this time? You keep him locked in a cellar or somethin' and he got loose?"

"He's been searching the fuckin' globe for me," Tim said, frowning.

"That's... in... sane," Kenneth said slowly, his eyes on the sky. Tim turned and looked up, and nearly took off running again. Ted was flying leisurely through the air on what looked to be a blue-green broom which he must have stolen from the kitchen. He was holding what looked like Curly by the back of his shirt, and Tim thought he could hear him singing.

"_They say two-thousand zero zero, party's over, it's out of time. So tonight I'm gonna party like it's nineteen ninty-nine,_" Ted sang, practically belting out the song like some sort of... famous, singer that liked to belt out songs that haven't been made yet. Next thing Tim new, Kenneth was backing away as quickly as he could as Ted shot down at them like an arrow, Curly flopping about like a rag doll. He came to a halt about a foot away from Tim, hovering at his eye level.

"Timothy! I found you! Again! I knew I'd need that direction spell some day, after Curly led me to Vegas. Oh hey, shot glasses," Ted said with an excited squeal as he held up about five shot glasses with different designs and 'Vegas' on them. "For decorational purposes only," he added firmly. And he stuffed the shot glasses in his pocket and tapped the space behind him on the broom with his hand.

"Now hop on, I left a friend with Angela at home, but she's awfully busy, so I don't want her to be there too long."

"I ain't gettin' on that thing," Tim said with a tone of finality. Kenneth was suddenly standing behind him.

"Run," He hissed. But alas, it was too late. Ted snatched up his twin and took off.

"_Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da, life goes on, bra! La la la how the life goes on,_" Ted sang as he flew through the air, drowning out Tim's cussing.

xxxx

Tim was dropped on the floor of the living room, a bit dazed, and not quite sure how he got there in the first place. The flight on the broom had left him a bit disoriented, and it took him a moment to remember why Ted had been able to fly in on a broom anyway, partly because his life story had been so long and it took Tim awhile to set the details straight in his current condition. Angela was sitting on the couch flipping through a magazine and loudly smacking some gum.

A girl was standing behind her, her hair in a messy bun right on the top of her head and glasses perched on her nose. She was dancing, it looked like, while doing Angela's hair in a similar style. But the thing Tim noticed first, was how loud the girl was smacking her gum. It was like she was standing right there, smacking it in his ear. He clenched his fists, feeling an urge to punch her in the face.

"Brandi! What'd I tell you about smacking your gum?" Ted demnaded, hands on his hips and a frown on his face. The girl, Brandi, paused, turned her head and spit her gum out.

"Sorry, geeze," She muttered. "There, all done!" She said happily, as she poofed the large bun with her hands. Brandi turned, a proud grin on her face, and Tim felt something very disturbing. It was as if his previous anger was melting away, just because she was looking at him. And he didn't like it.

It was then that Tim knew what he had to do: Ted had to stopped, and he'd have to take down Brandi in the process.

This wasn't going to be easy.


	4. Chapter 4

_This took foreveeeer. And I can't say it really helped things move a long. I'm a bit drugged up on meds and such so... Yeah. Sorry if this totally isn't worth it. Lol._

_**Warning:** I'm not religious, so if I offend you at some point in this chapter, sorry. But lighten up, eh? I capitalized His name an' all. Not that it really makes a difference but... Oh, and don't call me Gaw-sus. I'll punch you out. It's a silly name. And Brandi, if you read this, you **are **a walking twig, and compared to everyone but Aunt Ethel, you really are as flat as a board. So don't get pissed off at me for telling the truth. And you're eyes are the same as mine, but lighter, so don't get full of yourself. :/ _

**

* * *

**

**The Good Shepard**

_Four_

"So, you're Ted's twin, huh?" Brandi asked, walking forward and circling him like a vulture. Tim tried to ignore her, noting that she had a strange accent; American (somewhere up North) and Australian. He wasn't sure how she had it, but it was there. And it was making it hard to concentrate on anything.

"You look just like him… 'cept for your fashion sense. But we can work on that," She said with a wave of her hand. Tim frowned, trying to glare at her.

_Who does she think she is, mocking my… God she has nice eyes… damn it, no she doesn't! She's like a walking twig, flat as a board, and she wears glasses. There's nothing special about her. _

"Brandi, really, that's rude," Ted said with a frown. The walking twig whom was as flat as a board made a face.

"Well, I don't want to lie to him," she snapped, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "But, what ever. He's your brother… I have other things to do. You keep that hair-do safe," She added, pointing to Angela. And with that, she suddenly disappeared.

Tim seemed to be the only one startled by this, as Curly and Angela talked about her new hairstyle.

"Well, dinner's done," Ted said suddenly, clapping his hands. Tim was thrown violently into the kitchen, the chair he landed in sliding on the tile and smacking into the wall behind it. Angela and Curly were in a similar situation, but once again seemed unaffected by it. Ted floated gracefully through the air, singing 'Tra-la-la' in a rather operatic voice to a random melody. He plopped into his chair and smiled at his siblings. Only Tim refused to return the smile.

"Oh, this is just like school! Food appearing on plates-" A dramatic sigh. "If only I had a Habitation Gnome," Ted said wistfully. "Then it would be so much closer.

"A _habitation gnome_? What the fuck is that?" Tim snapped, moving closer to the table. He quickly pushed himself back as an entire dinner suddenly appeared on the table. Ted shot him a look, obviously disappointed in his language.

"Well it would have been a House Elf, but due to the fact that they are copyrighted and that Jedi doesn't want this to more associated with Harry Potter than it already is, it's a Habitation Gnome," Ted said simply as his younger siblings ate like… well, well-mannered children who had just had a feast appear on their table.

"Jedi?"

"Yes, she was going to call herself God, but that would be offensive, so now she's Jedi. It was going to be Gaw-sus, you know, God and Jesus, but I told her that was an ugly name, and she agreed. Of course, Jedi are copyrighted as well, but she's willing to ignore that."

"That's great, but who the hell is she?"

"…Well, if she was going to call herself God, who do you think she is?" Ted asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A nut job who believes she's God?"

"Well, I'm afraid to tell you this, but here, she pretty much is. But again, calling herself God would be offensive, and then the real God would become rather irate and a legal battle would ensue. So she's just going to borrow the title of Jedi. Oh, no, I take that back. She wants to be called Captain."

Tim stared at his brother for quite a long time, and Ted quite happily stared right back, eating his dinner at the same time. Tim would have gotten up and walked away again, but he was stuck to the chair. He was horrified, really. He had never had his bottom stuck to a chair before, and since he didn't want to look like a moron with a chair on his butt, he stayed put and ate dinner.

That didn't stop him from eyeing Ted with so much malice that Ted really should have spontaneously combusted. But, of course, Ted didn't. Instead, he smacked Tim's hand with a fork and told him to be polite, as it was rude to stare like that.

Well, chair be damned, Tim leapt up and punched Ted right in the temple. Or at least, tried to. To his surprise, Ted neatly bent back, in slow-motion might I add, and looked up at his twin, frowning.

"Now, really. I'm hurt, Tim… the emotional damage you just caused is worse than any physical wound you could inflict upon me."

And Ted quite suddenly burst into tears, and, still bending back, scuttled off. Angela and Curly stared at Tim, who had now fallen on his face (with a chair stuck to his butt) on the floor.

There was about five minutes of silence before Angela picked up the table and hurled it through the wall, leaving a gaping hole into the backyard and cool night air. "I can't believe you Tim!" she screeched, her hair looking as if it were blowing in some sort of wild wind.

Tim wondered where the elastic band holding the bun in had gone when it hit his face. And it hurt. Stung like a bitch, actually. So, while Angela was reverting to her animalistic roots, he carefully dragged himself out through the hole in the wall.

"IEEEEEEEEeeeee!"

Tim stopped and looked up. Curly went rocketing by, shrieking like a girl as Angela roared behind him.

"I'm going to go get some ice-cream," she said suddenly. "Bye."

Tim calmly stood up, a chair still stuck to his butt and looked up at the sky. "Captaaaaaaain!" he bellowed, falling to his knees as best he could, shaking his fists at the sky. "Aaaaugh!" And he hunched over, wondering where on Earth that had all come from when he heard a rather girly giggle from the sky.

"_Oh Tim, you make me laugh._"

And the chair disappeared, leaving glitter and flowers behind. Tim guessed that was Captain's doing and stood up again.

"Hey! Captain! You're the one making everyone all weird, aren't you?"

"_Wrong, G-unit. Well, sort of. It's Ted's fault. I'm just helping. And Brandi, the walking twig who's flat as a board is my sister. Be warned: she's a bitch. Don't let her fool you or she'll eat you alive!" _

"And that whole dramatic scene where I screamed at the sky?"

"…_That was totally all you. And I wouldn't worry about Angela. It's just PMS."_

"Right. Thanks," Tim muttered as he wandered off, hopping the fences of his neighbor's yards. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he thought he heard more laughter as a shooting star, which looked oddly like sheep wearing a pirate hat, streaked across the inky black expanse above him.

Tim raised an eyebrow, glanced around and shook his head, continuing on his way.

* * *

_Again, I **am **sorry if I offended you. And yes, I am Captain. Whether I'll help Tim later is unknown. I'm also the Sheep with the pirate hat. Only because on the Chinese Zodiac, I'm a sheep/goat/ram. Lol. _


End file.
